Where the Stars Shine Brightest
by Mimi Sohma
Summary: Mimi was raised in the city, though her mother owned a tavern in the valley. After visiting once, it wasn't long before she returned to stay. But there's something mysterious about the tavern itself, and she finds herself drawn to the Wizard's presence. .
1. Chapter 1 and Prologue: The Tavern

Prologue:

I grew up a singer, loved the theater. I loved writing stories. I was a pretty good artist, and I had an ear for music. I knew the ups and downs of the backstreets, and I could push an argument and win – even if it didn't make any sense. I was even a decent chef. You know, I could have had such a bright future in the big city. But, see, that's where I wanted to be different.

I'm Mimi. My family – my mother, my father, my sister, and I – lived in the city most of my life. My sister was adopted around the time I was sixteen, and she was only a year younger than myself. We never really had to hold jobs, because our family was alright with money through investments- That's where this whole story starts, you know, with the job situation. Because most all stories have to start at the beginning, and if they didn't, we just wouldn't get anywhere.

Anyways, my dad. . .he was a rather eccentric, disabled and retired, watch collector. My mother, on the other hand, was the . . .unique. . owner of a sweet little bar-slash-inn in the countryside which she referred to as a tavern. And while this bar brought in the money we needed, it also fascinated me. The whole country setting it was in fascinated me. And I was determined to know – to experience – more.

I first visited the inn on my eighteenth birthday. My mother had taken me there to run a quick errand before we went out with my sister for the occasion. It was then that I fell in love with it all – the fresh air, the friendly people, the dirt paths worn down by hard work, the roads that held their fair share of potholes, and had most likely never seen a fancy Porsche. . . everything that the city WASN'T. She came back outside, saw the look in my eyes, and right then and there told me:

"You know, if you ever want to leave home. . . you can always stay here."

Of course, at the time, I couldn't have told you when I would have taken that offer up, if at all. I had lived in such a different place for such a long time, it would be a major change. Still, it didn't take long for me to realize, after I got back into the city, that I had belonged at that place.

Alright, now fast forward two years.

And here I am, hugging my family goodbye, my luggage already in the taxi, and crying my eyes out like I already told myself I wasn't going to do. So much for the strong approach.

"I'll be back," I promised over and over. I was like the water works version of the Terminator.

And then I got in the taxi, and waved until I couldn't see them anymore. The driver, a nice Hispanic guy, offered me a tissue. I took it thankfully – most of the taxi drivers would have just ignored me. He introduced himself as Joselito, which kinda made me giggle, but I kept it to myself. He was a middle aged guy, and he cheered me up by telling me about his family – a little girl and another on the way. He even showed me pictures, and bragged about his wife. By the time I got out at the train station, I was decidedly happier – what can I say? I love children – heck, I love families in general.

I sat, waiting for the train, for almost thirty minutes, impatiently rolling one of the bags that Joselito had been so kind to help me with. I had been early, but that didn't bother me too much. It gave me time to think, and I found myself close to being startled as the train pulled to a stop in the station. As I rolled my luggage on, took a seat, and watched the doors close, my anxiousness grew. A cool voice dinged over the intercom, declaring the destination – Evening Star Valley. The scenery passed by in green and brown blurs, while the only thought I could manage rang over and over inside my head, _I hope I fit in. . ._

Because I had never wanted to be less different in my life.

CHAPTER 1:

I took a deep breath as I got off the train. The slight wind tousled my hair about my face lightly, and I found myself entranced by how beautiful it was here. How fresh the air smelled. How I could already feel the great difference between here and the city.

"Let's go Mimi." I told myself, "Let's go, let's get to the bar. You have to meet Miss Violet today, don't you remember?" Sighing, I adjusted my top and rolled my luggage along behind me.

The roads I walked along were gravel or dirt, and something I found entirely charming. Flowers blossomed on the trees, filling the air with the sweet perfume of spring. Here and there a petal fell. I took in the whole surroundings, refreshed by the purity of it all. And smiling, I took the map out of my pocket.

This map was the thing that would show me how to get to the bar. There, I'd get a room until I found a house or somewhere to stay. At least, that's what momma had told me. In fact, I could stay at the inn as long as I liked, she said. And I'll take her word for it – seeing as she's the owner.

I ignored how my skirt blew here and there in the wind. I was wearing shorts under it after all, so it wasn't a big deal. It almost got caught on a post as I walked into the town, which was something I found very funny. Then again, I was always easy to amuse. As I looked at the buildings, I found myself wondering which one could possibly be the inn. Somehow, the simple way of stopping and asking someone for directions was giving me nervousness that I hadn't known since before my theater days. Why? I couldn't figure it out, myself. . .

Finally, I stumbled past a few people and onto the street that was home to the inn. I could tell, because there was a sign that said – you guessed it – 'INN' on the outside. Whoo, common sense! I rolled my luggage after me, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Inside, it was a cozy little front room with tables for dining and a bar up front. Beside the bar led to stairs that I was pretty sure had to lead to the sleeping quarters. And standing behind the bar had to be none other than Violet herself. I could tell, even in the work clothes she wore now, that she was elegant and pretty. And immediately I felt my self-status lowering on it's totem pole. So much for confidence, eh? Either way, my confidence took over and I stepped forward bravely.

"Miss Violet. . .? I'm Mimi~." I smiled.

"No, no, there's probably not a lot of alcohol in there anyways. . " a girl at the counter trailed off as I stepped forward. Violet looked up at me, and her worried smile turned into an excited one.

"You're Mimi, right? Miss Kitt's daughter! It's so nice to see you again!"

I blanched. Then I blushed slightly. How could I not remember her? Where had I met her before? Surely I wasn't so stupid as to forget, no, surely not. She noticed my expression and laughed.

"I saw you that day you were running errands with your mother. She and I were inside and, forgive me, rather amused by how entranced you seemed by this place."

The blush deepened.

"Well, you can put your stuff in the back – that's where mine, Gill's, and your rooms are. Yours is a bit far near the back, since it was the guest room. And seeing as this taverns fairly old, the doors are all heavy and the wallpaper rather . .out of style. But I hope you like it either way." She said, taking me over to the door behind the bar and pointing back into the room that lay behind it, "At the end of that hallway back there, take a right. The last door, that's your room. Ours is up near the front, but don't hesitate to come to us if you need anything."

"Oh, thank you!" I smiled, glad to have a room a bit far off from everyone else. That way I could sing or dance without worrying about disturbing anyone. Following the way she pointed, leaving her to her customer, I walked back into the room and closed the door behind me. This room was attached the the back hallway, and done up in the same kind of old wallpaper as the rest. Far from disliking it, as Violet seemed to think, I loved it.

'I'll have to do up my room in this. . ' I started to think to myself before I realized. . I didn't live there anymore. That left kind of an empty feeling in my stomach. Quietly, I wheeled my bags through the back hallway, and went to the right. About three doors stood between me and my room, and I went past them determinedly, all the while murmuring to myself.

"I will not get into trouble, I will not go exploring. . . .yet."

What? I can't help myself!

I leaned against my door with my shoulder to push it open. It was heavy, just like Violet had said. As soon as I had gotten it opened enough, I pulled my bags inside. I decided that it would be a good idea to keep the door open, because if it closed, I'd have a heck of a time getting it open from the inside.

Inside the room was amazing. The bed was a queen size four poster, with cushy pillows and comforters. There was a dresser, a vanity, and a desk inside – all of which looked too heavy to move, and probably hadn't done so for several years. Looking out into the hallway to make sure no one was out there, I stood away from the door to change. I pulled off the dress and slipped on a tank top, deciding to keep on the shorts I already had on. Then I pulled on a short sleeved jacket over it, and checked the mirror on the vanity.

"Wow, I look like a monster." I laughed. My hair had gotten a wee bit poofy like it occasionally does, and my makeup needed some fixing. I sat down to the task, humming all the while. I wiped the remains of my eye liner from under my eye, but didn't bother re-applying it, and put on some lip balm to fix the slightly chapped appearance I had gotten from not drinking much since I left home. Then I brushed through my hair and pulled it over my shoulder, tying it in a low ponytail.

"Now. Let's go see what's going on outside." I decided, standing up and walking out of my room. I'd have to unpack later.

Down the hallway I went, across the room, and to the door. As I pulled it open, I saw. . . quite the scene. A guy with black hair and gold eyes was trying to help the girl (who was sitting at the bar earlier) up. It looked as if she had fallen over, and a distinctly drunken look played about her face.

"Is she okay?" I asked, rather worried as I crossed out from behind the bar, "How much did she have to drink?" the latter question was directed towards Violet, who was already trying to help.

"Only one drink, believe it or not. . .but I think she's alright. Not coherent, but alright." She sighed.

"What's her name?" I asked the guy. He was about to answer when the girl made herself vocal.

"My naaaame iss Miiiiiirrraa." She slurred. Well, alrighty then.

"Well then, Mira, how do you feel? Are you well enough to walk, or is it all dizzy?" I asked. She caught my eye and started giggling madly. I'm _pretty_ sure that wasn't funny.

"Yyouu . . . yoou haave bi-. .biigg booooobiesss." she managed through the giggles, stopping in the middle for a hiccup. My face flushed red, as I finally decided nice wouldn't cut it if she couldn't even answer a simple question without being rude.

"Alright, you." I pointed at the guy, "Help me get her up." We hauled her up with the help of Violet, one of her arms slung around my shoulder and the other around the boy's.

"Do you know where she lives?" I asked, "And. . .who are you?"

"Yes, and I'm Luke." He said, trying to concentrate on talking to me as Mira tried to grab his nose.

"Good. Violet, I'll help take her home. . . I think I should stay with her until she sleeps it off, so maybe I can come back tomorrow? I'm so sorry!" I added the last part, partially because I had been really looking forward to sleeping in the four poster.

"Of course." Violet smiled, "Go ahead and look after her. I guess you'll just have to meet Gill tomorrow. And assuming you come home before dinner, we'll have something good!" My stomach growled as she said that, but I ignored it.

"Thanks." I said, keeping Mira's hand firmly in my grasp after it tried to reach up and grab my ear, "I'll be home soon."

Home. . .wow, that sounded nice.

"Come on then." I said to Luke, as we half carried and half walked Mira out the door. And after a while of her butting into our conversation as we walked, usually blubbering some nonsense about gophers and cranberry cheese, I found myself laughing.

I liked it here already.


	2. Chapter 2:A Fairytale and a Watering Can

Chapter 2:

I had waved goodbye to Luke as he walked away down the path from Mira's house.

"Come check on her later," I had said, "I'll keep an eye on her until then."

That had been several hours ago. I had already fallen asleep myself, taken a short nap in an armchair near the couch, and woke up to find Mira still sleeping. So, I picked up a book and began to read.

It was an old book, one I figured the girl herself hadn't picked out – simply because of it's age and how hard they most likely were to get a hold of nowadays. The binding, the pages, everything was carefully taken care of though it showed signs of wear and tear in spots. It showed signs of being mended too, a sure sign of a loved book. That's what attracted me to it. After all, if it's that carefully cared after, it must have been good.

See, I myself am a bit of a book worm. I got it from my mother. Not things like text books or boring things, but interesting fantasies and intriguing mysteries. By the time I was in fifth grade, I could read college level books. By seventh, psychologies, and my reading scores no longer registered by the system. By now. . . pretty much anything I could get my hands on. But I learned a long time ago that talking like a nerd or a smarty pants was NOT a good way to survive in school, so I dumbed down speech for anyone who couldn't understand it. My mother and I always had such wonderful conversations though – and we would dream up the most fantastic stories. I couldn't help but smile slightly at the thought of us as I read through some of the pages of what seemed to be a book full of farie tales – all about someone named the 'Goddess' and her tiny helpers. I remembered a slightly similar story we had dreamt up in a cafe one day, but set in an older setting, and with Gypsies. . .

I snapped out of my reverie as I noticed a slight movement to my side. Mira had opened her eyes, and was blinking them groggily.

"I see you're awake," I smiled as I carefully put down the book on the side table next to my chair, "That was quite a night you had."

I watched her as her eyes focused, widened, and then blinked rapidly – in that order, "CRAP! I'm so sorry, I knew I should have gone home!"

I was a little taken aback at the outburst, but I shrugged it off, "Don't be. Violet explained everything to us. Though you did point out some very rude subjects. . ."

"Us. . . ? So she explained it to Luke also?" Her hope was almost tangible. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Yep. He was worried after a while though, and wanted to take you home, but I insisted. You were such an interesting drunk, I couldn't wait to meet you sober~." I was waving my hands around animatedly as I talked, something I usually tried to refrain from doing.

She just stared at me for a long moment. I was about to take out my mirror and see if anything was on my face before she spoke again.

"Thank you. . .but. . .who are you?"

"Oh!" I hurriedly attempted to explain, feeling rather stupid at not having introduced myself in the first place, "I'm always forgetting that! My name's Naomi – Mimi for short – and I'm going to be helping out at the bar for a while." I left out the fact that my mother was the land lady just because I didn't feel like adding useless information. After all, I shouldn't be going on about myself, especially to someone who just woke up and probably didn't want to hear it.

"Okay. My name is Mirabelle." She said. I half chuckled.

"Ah, well. . I already knew that. You told me last night."

I stood up from my chair, fully intending on making her something to eat. But the girl shot up out of the couch so fast, I thought she was going to get whiplash.

"And WHERE exactly do you think YOU'RE going?" I demanded.

"Out to water my crops." Her voice started out determined, but lost force as it went.

"Oh no you don't. You're going to stay in here and REST, while I water your crops." I sighed.

"No! I'm doing the work on this farm!" she raised her voice, but winced as she did so. That seemed to change her mind, "Well. . .maybe you could. . .help."

"Ahh, and we've reached a repose." I crossed my arms, "Seeing how you won't let me do any of your work, and you, in your condition, can't even manage to lift a watering can." I scolded myself mentally for being rude, but it was for Mira's own good. If she went out there in this kind of state, I'd have to carry her in – half dead – to the clinic.

"I'll be fine, if you help me!" She said, trying the proposal again.

"Okay, I'll help!" I chirped. She seemed satisfied at this, and attempted to walk for the door. I put up a hand to stop her.

"If I can do all the work."

"Oh. . . .you irritate me, woman. Fine." She sighed. I laughed happily, as I usually did when I won an argument, and went outside.

I walked down to the plot of land that held her crops. And, spotting a shed nearby, I went to go look for a watering can. One was propped, just against the side, and I picked it up.

"Now, just to fill it with water. . " I mumbled, looking around.

"Well, if it isn't the handy helper!" I heard someone say from behind me, and I turned to find none other but a grinning Luke.

"Hey there." I smiled, "You came back at a good time. Mira's awake, I think, but she's a wee bit weak, so I'm taking care of her crops."

"Alright, want some company? Or some help?" He offered.

"Both might be nice – especially if you can help. I haven't exactly ever done this before." I laughed.

I went over to the well, and filled the watering can with water.

"Alright, so-. . ." I trailed off as I felt water trickling down my hand. There was a small hole in the side of the can, and water was falling out of it.

"Hey, Luke. . .you got a knife?" I asked, "Something pointy?"

"Sure, why?" He answered, pulling a small pocket knife out of his pocket.

"Because – if we put more holes in this thing, we can cut the watering time down by half!" I smiled, holding up the can.

"That's a good idea." He agreed. I poured the water out into the well again, and poked a hand full of holes in the sides and bottom of the can. Then, I filled it back up, and hurried it over to the crops.

Turns out, I had been right. The water sprayed to almost the equivalent of a hose, and the watering was going far better and quicker than I had expected. Luke and I talked the whole time, about the Valley and the people in it. We were almost done before Mira showed an appearance.

"What are you doing? This is my grandmother's bucket!" she yelled, running towards us and yanking on the bucket in my hand.

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry!" I said, untwisting my fingers from the handle. Just as I did, she tugged it again, harder.

"Let it go!" the bucket flew up into the air, spun once, and then deposited all it's contents on top of her. Soaking her nightgown. Her incredibly thin nightgown. The one I had put her in. Which certainly wasn't made to get wet. Luke stared, and I grabbed Mira, steering her for the front door.

"JUST GREAT!" she yelled when we got inside, "Now my grandmother's antique bucket is ruined, and I've been _exposed_ to my best friend!"

"I'm sorry, I feel like this is all my fault. ." I said, quietly, "I-. . ."

"Oh, great, Captain Obvious! Maybe that's because it is!" she steamed. I felt indignation rising in my stomach, and I clenched my fists.

"Don't you yell at me! I was only trying to help!" I raged, anger flooding my mind. I might have been in the wrong, but my intentions had been good. If she was going to yell at me, even after I said I was sorry. .

"Even though I asked you NOT to!" She countered. That was it. I couldn't stand it anymore. I turned and stormed out the door, slamming it behind me.

Luke was still standing next to the crops, holding the bucket in his hand.

"Hey." He said, "Is everything okay?"

"I think so." I lied. No need to worry him, "But can I borrow this knife a little longer? I need to fix something."

"Sure thing." He stood there for a long moment, staring at Mira's house, before turning uneasily away, "I'll see you around, kay? Tell Mira I'm sorry. . "

"I will. . Thank you for your help." I said, faking another smile. As soon as he was out of sight, I sat down, and wiped my eyes. They were wet. No wonder he had asked if we were alright.

Plopping down on the ground, I picked up the bucket, and put it in my lap. Then, I took out my trusty lighter from my pocket.

The lighter was one that I carried with me pretty much constantly. I continued to keep it with me, because I could think of a million different uses for it. This was one of them. I heated each individual holes, letting the metal get soft. Then, I used the knife tip to meld the metal back together, to fix it. Practically seamless. I couldn't blame her if she didn't forgive me, but I had to fix what I started. If only I could have just acted normal, not tried to be a smarty pants, and just done things the way they should have been done.

"Mimi?" I heard Mira say. She had walked up behind me as I worked.

"Hmmm." I mumbled, finishing the patching of the last hole. I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear as I closed up the pocket knife and put my lighter back in my pocket.

"That's what I'll call you – by your nickname. If. . .you still want to be friends, that is." She said, staring down at her feet. I jumped up, whirled around, and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Yes, yes, yes! I was just waiting for that! We're gonna be best friends! That's just a scientific fact!" I cursed myself over and over later for saying something so dorky, but at the time, it seemed just the right thing to say. I knew everything was going to turn out just right.


End file.
